


If Heaven is Your Resting Place

by Herbcitty



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (canon), Angst, Asexual Castiel, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Casual mentions of sex, I might make you cry lol whoops., M/M, Minor Character Death, Nudity, blood mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 07:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3759901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herbcitty/pseuds/Herbcitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a ring shoved in the back of Dean’s underpants drawer. It’s been there a long time. His brother, Sam, also has a velvet box at the back of his drawer. It’s been there even longer. Dean doesn’t know Sam still has the box, and Sam doesn’t know Dean has a box either. Sam’s doesn’t have a ring in it though, not anymore. Neither are married, engaged, nor have lovers. Not anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Heaven is Your Resting Place

**Author's Note:**

> First proper longer fic I’ve finished, yay!! Huge apologies for it being late, like an hour before I was gonna post it my internet crapped out and I had maybe fifteen minutes max actually connected to the internet yesterday (and let me tell you now; that is not long enough at /all/ to learn how to work this site). Ah well, we're here at last.
> 
> The title is totally stolen from the lyrics of Ed Sheeran’s Afire Love, so thanks to him for that (go listen to that song if you want, it fits the mood of the fic).
> 
> Thanks to my beta, Nez (deeprivers-and-oldsouls, or angry-physicist, on tumblr), for helping make this as glorious as it is.  
> Thanks to my artist, Cordelia (@BehindTheCellarDoor, impalartsociopath on tumblr [here](http://impalartsociopath.tumblr.com/post/116520692620/art-i-did-for-the-herbcittys-fic-if-heaven-is)), for the art, which is amazing.  
> Also thanks to everyone else who put up with me while I was writing this, and to all of you, who’re reading it. Hope you enjoy, or maybe learn/better understand something. =)

1)      Ring

There’s a ring shoved in the back of Dean’s underpants drawer. It’s been there a long time. His brother, Sam, also has a velvet box at the back of his drawer. It’s been there even longer. Dean doesn’t know Sam still has the box, and Sam doesn’t know Dean has a box either. Sam’s doesn’t have a ring in it though, not anymore. Neither are married, engaged, nor have lovers. Not anymore.

 

2)      Hero

Dean had been Sammy’s hero once, when they were kids. Dean’s hero had been his father, before their mother died and John had changed. Their lives were unconventional, controlled by their father. They didn’t have a solid home, moving around with their father’s job, so often alone. Friends were few and far between, restricted by the fact that neither boy could let anyone into their life: young boys weren’t supposed to be around guns like this so much, on their own so much. Young boys were supposed to be brought up as children, not as soldiers. Thinking back, Dean realizes it was neglectful, bordering on abusive. Dean understood why Sam had wanted out, why college had been that ticket. He’d been angry, but it made sense to him now, years later, with hindsight’s gentle hand on his shoulder. Anger is a secondary emotion, after all; Castiel would have told him that. He’d have told Dean the dictionary definition: that a secondary emotion is one which is expressed or showed but caused by something else, which is often not shown, such as emotional hurt. To Dean, that was something he was not allowed to show as it was unmanly, not something his father approved of, and his entire adolescence was trying to prove to his father that he was capable and respectable. That he was a _good_ son. Dean’s anger came from fear of the unknown, of change. It probably stemmed from how his life had changed after his mother was gone. Not that Dean would admit to that fear of course, not if he didn’t have to. And maybe that’s why he should have known to wait out the anger that spread through his veins faster than poison when Cas had told him the truth. Known not to let the fear - of difference, of change, of the possibility of losing something good for the maybe of gaining something better - speak for all of him.

 

3)      Memory

Dean has a lot of memories of Castiel. He likes all of them, even the bad ones, even the embarrassing ones, even the ones his subconscious made up in sleep, far better than the one he has now. The first time Dean laid eyes on him, he’d been wearing a John Constantine outfit, a coat the colour of a tawny owl, with sleeves too long for his arms, over a suit and poorly tied tie of blue azurite. His footsteps were silent, the wind was behind him, and his hair was dishevelled, like he’d just gone three rounds with someone. Dean came to know the messy-hair-trench-coat-suit-and-tie as Castiel’s usual look, calming in its familiarity, just like his own Metallica and plaid shirts. His eyes were a blue so ethereal that Dean wasn’t quite sure if the colour was real or if it was caused by contacts or something else entirely, and Dean’s heart had skipped a beat. He’d looked young, more youthful than the many years he’d really lived, and Dean had been immediately captured by it. Sam hadn’t been there when they’d met. Back in the current memory, though, Dean’s heart doesn’t skip a beat; he feels it has stopped instead. Cas isn’t wearing the suit or the tie or even the trench coat now, but a horrible dentist-green gown. His hair is messier than usual, contrasting against the white of the pillow, the sheet pulled up to his neck and his skin, much more pale than usual. His eyes are closed, the years catching up with him. He no longer looks like a force not to be reckoned with. Sam isn’t a part of this, either.

 

4)      Box

They hadn’t been properly together for very long, but Dean had known early into their not-quite-relationship that this was it for him. He knew that no matter what he’d done before - the women he’d taken into bed and left before morning, the men too, his job, the things he wished he hadn’t done - Cas understood him like no one else. If they couldn’t be lovers, friends would be enough, because losing Cas was not an option. He’d tried with Cassie, but their lives had gotten in the way – Dean tried not to think about how similar the names were. He’d tried with Lisa, but his heart couldn’t settle like home. Home had only ever been the Impala for Dean, and he could barely remember otherwise. Sam could. Sam had found home in Palo Alto, in a girl named Jess. She never got to see Sam drop to one knee and open the box which now sat empty in his drawer. Dean had never shown what was inside of the box in his own drawer to anyone either, but oh god, how he wanted to. It had been impulse that lead to the purchase, when he was stone cold sober, the realization that there could never be anyone else slamming into him like a bullet train. His heart had settled like home in stubble and blue eyes deeper than Marianas Trench and more vast than the entire universe, and now it was too late.

 

5)      Run

Dean ran from his problems. That was basically his entire _life_ after his mother died in the fire. Sometimes he still woke up with sweat pooling in the dip of his back between his shoulder blades, woken from nightmare. The intensity of the heat, his vision and lungs obscured by smoke, his thoughts a jumbled mess. His body fighting it and losing. His mother's screams in the background. Sometimes he tried to reach her; sometimes he tried to get out. Sometimes he died trying, flung back to consciousness there, sometimes he managed, his father's voice yelling at him to run. It was no surprise, then, that Dean had run from his feelings for Cas for a long time - or any feelings about anything really. He was stubborn – a Winchester trait that had, apparently, spared Sam in this aspect. And that was possibly also because of Dean. John had brought Dean up as a soldier, as a warrior, taking drills like John had had when he’d been in the Marines. Dean protected Sammy from the same for as long as he could; his brother was as important to him as a son would be. Hell, Dean practically raised the kid himself. So while Dean wouldn’t talk about or show feelings as much as possible because his father had taught him that that was weak, unmanly, not allowed, Sam would. College and Jess had obviously taught Sam just how unhealthy repressing his feelings was, and Dean was damn proud Sam had the shot at college even though life had been more difficult for Dean after he’d left. That was one argument Dean hadn’t buffered: John’s “if you’re leaving, don’t bother coming back,” ingrained into both of their memories. Sammy had always been John’s favourite, and Dean knew it, but they didn’t have the same view on things at all. Dean hated when his brother and father fought. Family was most important to him, and he wanted them to get along. And family didn’t end in blood. Cas was family now. Sitting at his bedside, Dean had had plenty of time to stop running and confront his feelings. Dean knew he was in the wrong. He was the one who was angry – over nothing really, he had come to see – and he was the one who’d stopped Cas and him from getting along that evening. If he could go back in time, he would. And he’d do it right the second time.

 

6)      Hurricane

Life with Cas had been like living in the eye of a hurricane. A storm could have been raging around them, but so long as Cas had been there to calm him when he wanted to join the gale force wind and he was the same for Cas, everything would be okay. Stability hadn’t been something Dean had had a lot of in his life until Cas came into it, and even after he was there, settling and stability weren’t to a place in the ground, but to Cas and to himself. Cas had pulled Dean from the storm into the eye, and now that he isn’t there for Dean, Dean is back in the gust, over the ocean in a dinghy. Any moment now, Dean could be capsized into the freezing waters, and he knows he won’t rise to the surface again. And Dean is terrified.

 

7)      Wings

Down some back alley in some dead end town somewhere in America some many months ago, they’d found a huge pair of black angel or bird wings graffitied on the side of a building. Dean couldn’t remember where or when exactly. He just remembered Cas. There were a lot of places they’d been where the only things he could remember of them were snapshots of Cas. In this particular one, Cas had wandered over and posed in front of the wings. The dark blue-black paint framed Castiel’s body, contrasting against both the white of the rest of the building and the tan of Cas’ coat. The dropping sun had hit Cas on a certain angle that had Dean choking on nothing. He had sworn to himself that at that moment, he was gazing upon the single most beautiful thing he’d ever be lucky enough to see. Cas looked angelic, and almost on autopilot, Dean had snapped a picture on his phone. It didn’t do Cas justice. Cas told him then that something he wanted more than anything was wings to fly. That without them he doesn’t feel whole, he doesn’t feel “normal”. The memory brings Dean to tears now. He hopes like anything and prays to every god and angel he can think of that if Cas can’t come back to him, he at least got wings like that in heaven.

 

 

8)      Cold

The cold of Castiel’s skin as Dean holds his hand now brings back tons of memories, but none he wants to forget more in this moment than the first time Cas laid his hand on Dean’s skin. His hand had been warm then. It isn’t now. Not like it had been, anyway. Now it’s more like the first time they’d had a snowball fight together, a few winters ago. Dean doesn’t remember what town they were in when that had happened either, but he remembered Cas. His cheeks had been flushed, and Dean had taken one off his gloves off and stuck his warm hand against Castiel’s cool face to tease him about it, but it had backfired. Cas hadn’t understood what Dean was doing, and had laid his own hand on Dean’s cheek. Cas hadn’t been wearing gloves, as per typical for Cas, and Dean had almost yelped, not expecting it. But not before he’d met Cas’ eyes and some sort of unspoken intimacy passed between them. Sam had been around somewhere, building a snowman and telling them off for acting like children, for screeching when they were hit and crowing when it was them who’d thrown the hit. Sammy and Dean had had snowball fights as kids, but never like this. Dean hadn’t wanted to hurt Sammy, and Sam hadn’t wanted to get too cold. Dean didn’t want his father to yell. But Dean remembered how cold he’d been, figuratively, when he’d been the one yelling, at Cas. And he remembered how Cas had just stood and taken it, like he’d been expecting it, like there was no other possible outcome. Like he’d heard it before. And Dean remembered how he couldn’t stop, even though his heart was shattering in his chest.

 

9)      Red

Dean had seen red. Anger. Being lied to was one of the few things he would not tolerate. He could handle being beat up, jumped by people; just wipe the blood away and patch up the wound. He could handle never staying in one place too long; he’d lived more of his life like that than not. He could handle the slurs thrown at him when he had started holding Cas’ hand in public; as long as they didn’t hurt Cas, he could just block them out. But then Cas telling him he didn’t feel the same, that the relationship was built on falsity, that Dean having to hear the slurs in the first place wasn’t necessary - that wasn’t something he could block out. Dean had been planning on marrying him. He even bought a ring, all that time ago, when they weren’t even together properly. He’d found a constant that he wanted to be there forever. Dean wholly felt the truth of that again now, and he knew he’d misunderstood, but back then, to Dean’s ears, Cas had been lying to him the entire time. Dean had yelled. Cas’ face had crumpled, then shifted to a façade of calm. And then Cas had walked out the door. Dean had seen red. Blood. When the phone call came, just enough time later for Dean to have calmed down, he didn’t think. His body moved without Dean feeling like he occupied it. It wasn’t until he sat down in the white-washed waiting room that his brain had switched back on. And all he could do was picture the scene, over and over in his head. It was cold and miserable outside, grey and bleak, dirtied white snow still on the ground from snowfall just days before. And Cas, so unmovable before, so fragile after, lying there limp. His arms and legs, twisted and bent all the wrong ways. And the blood. Everywhere. Head injury, they said. Serious, they said. Fifty-fifty, they said. Goodbye, Dean didn’t want to say.

 

10)      Drink

He’d wanted to forget, to not be living in that moment, to wake up the next morning and find it was just a horrid, calamitous dream. In any other situation he’d turn to a bar, drink himself into stupor. He’d done just that many times, but those now paled to petty in comparison to this. But this was different. Everything now reminded him of Cas, and bars and booze would be no different. Cas had a far better tolerance to alcohol than Dean would ever have - lines of shots barely affected him. Dean had joked that Cas could drink an entire liquor store and only then would he be drunk. The thought had held humour before, but now Dean only wanted to run from it. He wanted Cas beside him, alive and whole. He wanted to hold Cas, tell him that Dean knew he had been wrong, that he was sorry.

 

11)      Midnight

The clock on the wall above the nurses’ station had both hands to the roof when it occurred to Dean that he didn’t have to be alone right now. Usually, when he was reeling from a nightmare in the middle of the night, Cas was there to calm him. Cas was there to make him tea and rub his back and tell him none of it was real. Cas was there to whisper to him delicate nonsense until the horrors faded back into the forgotten until next time. And then Cas would hold him, and they’d retreat into sleep once again. But Cas wasn’t there this time. This wasn’t a nightmare he could wake up from. It wasn’t him who he needed to wake up - it was Cas. And Dean had no idea what he was supposed to do or how he was supposed to feel. But Sam did. Sam knew Cas, and he’d sat before where Dean was now. So he dug his cell phone from his pocket, where he’d barely remembered to stuff it before he’d hurried out of the apartment, and began scrolling through his contacts. He paused on Castiel’s name, just for a moment, before dialling Sam.

 

12)      Temptation

Cas had a thing about clothes. Specifically, he didn’t like wearing them. Not when he didn’t have to. But he did, for Dean’s benefit. It had weirded Dean out then, way back at the start, that Cas would walk around stark naked before and after he showered, during and after sleep. Dean had said almost immediately that it wasn’t a thing he was comfortable with, so Cas wore pants or boxers instead. But he had continued carrying himself in a manner that suggested that his body wasn’t his - and therefore had no shame in showing it off. It became apparent pretty quick to Dean that the uncomfortableness it caused him wasn’t because it just wasn’t something most guys did. No, it was because Dean wanted to climb that like a tree - and Cas was his best friend. This was something that fell in the realm of “Should Not Happen”. But that information didn’t save Dean’s brain – or his dick, at the most inappropriate of times – from temptation. And for Dean, there was a lot of temptation there. After they’d become official, it was slightly easier for him to deal with. However, Cas had never really returned Dean’s advances with as much enthusiasm, and they’d never gone very far at all. Often, it seemed to Dean as though Cas had to remind himself that reciprocating the affection was expected. And then, finally, before Dean had yelled, before Cas had told him they were no longer together, before he’d walked out the door, Cas had told him why. For Cas, that temptation just wasn’t there.

 

13)      View

Dean got off the phone with Sammy and slumped back, wearily, into the hard plastic chair he was sat in. He hadn’t said much to Sam on the phone, too afraid he’d come apart at the seams. The conversation filled in time, Sam saying he’d be there when he could, but it likely wouldn’t be until late the next day. He was working a case with Gabriel, who he’d bring with him. Gabriel and Castiel had the same absent father, but weren’t close the way Sam and Dean were because of it. Sam couldn’t just take time off with no notice while working cases – that wasn’t how his little brother’s job worked. Dean understood that. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want Sam there with him right that minute. With thoughts of Sammy and Gabe and what their case could possibly entail, Dean drifted into sleep on the uncomfortable seat against the wall. He only realized he’d fallen asleep – he hadn’t thought he’d even be able to – when he was abruptly woken by a nurse shaking his shoulder. According to the clock on the other side of the room, nestled between prints of views famous landscapes he’d probably seen in person at some point, it was just before half seven. With the adrenalin from their fight and the shock having worn off, the exhaustion was catching up with Dean. His back ached and his legs were stiff, the chair unforgiving as he’d slept fitfully. He could’ve gone for a walk one of the many times he’d woken, but he’d decided against it. John’s avoidance of hospitals had left Dean disliking them immensely - hospitals meant serious injury, too big to fix themselves, hospitals meant possibility of disclosure to authorities. Hospitals meant weird smells, long days or nights, cold, sterile everything, and so much white it was near blinding, broken only by those super-generic, boring landscape pictures - the rest of the building would be the same as this waiting room. None of the paintings in any of the rooms would hold anywhere near as much beauty as Castiel. Castiel might have been inhuman, but he was comfortable to Dean, like home in a way this place could never be.

‘Sir,’ the nurse began, ‘are you here for Castiel Novak?’ Dean had just nodded, unsure of his voice so soon from waking. ‘You are?’

‘Dean. His emergency contact. I’m... his fiancé.’ Dean didn’t add that Cas had broken up with him, or that he hadn’t actually asked yet. He just didn’t want to miss saying the words before he’d lost them forever.

 

14)      Music

When they entered Castiel’s hospital room, the tap-tap-tap of the nurse’s heels against the vinyl flooring was drowned out by the murmur of music. Dean looked at the surroundings before he looked at Cas. He steeled himself for seeing Cas as he was now, not as he’d been just this time the previous day, when they’d woken with their limbs tangled together. The bed Castiel slept in now is too narrow to fit two people comfortably. Dean wouldn’t even try, not with the IV and other tubes and things attached to Cas and the machines. One monitors his heart beat, Dean can tell that much - there’s a screen with the regular intervals of each beat. In the corner diagonal from that, to the right of the window, there’s a television, the screen black. There’s a radio on the windowsill, playing some top forty pop station that Sammy would have picked out. The singer’s voice is whiny, high pitched, and the beat repetitive. Dean would not have. After the nurse took Castiel’s vitals and whatever else she needed to do, she straightened the blankets, drawing the white sheet up to Cas’ chin, then left the room. Dean took the opportunity to search through the radio stations for something more his taste. Dean was glad that Castiel had acquired his idea of good music. When they’d met, Cas had been clueless about music, except for gospel and religious music, though he mumbled to himself about religious things being wrong. When he’d overheard, Dean supposed Cas knew what he was talking about, but Dean didn’t care either way.

Dean had taken Cas’ lack of music knowledge in with a dramatic gasp of ‘shock and horror,’ and then brought it upon himself to teach Castiel everything pop culture.

The small smiles Castiel gave when he enjoyed something made Dean feel accomplished, a warmth spreading across his chest to sit in his belly. The frowns Castiel’s face shifted into when he didn’t understand or like something, Dean found endearing. It’d given Dean great joy, showing Cas things to these reactions, but also made Dean question himself on what exactly Cas meant to him. Dean had caught him humming some of the songs later, in one situation in particular that Dean sort of wanted to forget, but also wanted to remember forever. But as Dean looked back at Cas’ broken body in the hospital bed, the smile these memories had put on his face vanished.

 

15)      Silk

Castiel wore silk boxers. For himself, Dean didn’t particularly care – going commando sometimes was a thing Dean did. Silk was a luxury Cas afforded himself, liking the way it felt against his skin, how comfortable they were. Dean just wondered how it would feel to slip them off Cas’ waist, to pull them over his hips and down his legs. It was a recurring fantasy, but not one he took distinct time with – the rest of the fantasy was just that much more satisfying. Dean and Cas were still just friends when Dean came to terms with the fact that Cas gave him a raging hard-on sometimes. He pushed it aside for a while. But then there was that one time Dean had been alone in a motel room and Sammy had been out. Dean had woken up, had gone to the small bathroom, had pushed the door open and there was Cas. Standing at the sink, running a hand through his hair. Completely naked. He’d thought Dean was still asleep, and was humming Steppenwolf’s Born to be Wild. Dean’s underpants felt tighter, and, still half asleep, he’d cleared his throat. Cas looked up, startled, and stopped humming. Dean started to back up, let Cas through the doorway. Dean, unable to help himself, winked at Cas as he sidled past, and playfully slapped his hand to his bare ass. Dean had panicked later, once his brain wasn’t so sleep addled, worrying that it hadn’t been appropriate. But the incident wasn’t mentioned again. Dean thought now, all this time later, that it would probably have made for an embarrassing-yet-endearing wedding story. If only he hadn’t got ahead of himself and assumed. If only Cas hadn’t walked out that door.

 

16)      Cover

Sam called Dean again the next day, when he and Gabriel were arriving at Dean’s apartment. He told Dean that he’d bring him some stuff, knowing that Dean hadn’t left the hospital since he’d arrived. He then asked what their cover story was, what name he would be asking for when he got to the hospital. After a quick glance towards the door to make sure there was no one to overhear, Dean told him in a low voice, the way he’d been taught - you could never be too careful. Cas was in the system as Castiel Novak, as he’d requested before, to honour Jimmy. The fake records they’d created worked like a treat, like Cas had always been on the grid. And then Dean had said, as casually as he could, that Sam himself was Castiel’s to-be brother-in-law, and that he could introduce Gabe as whatever he liked, but they’d be more likely to let them in if they said Gabe was family.

Being casual was not something Dean had luck with, and Sam picked up on it instantly. ‘Brother-in-law? Really? Really, Dean? You couldn’t even tell me you were engaged?’ Dean could practically feel the bitch-face Sam’s expression had turned to, even over the phone.

‘No!’ Dean said loudly, before remembering himself and lowering his voice again. ‘No, I just told them that so they’d let me see him faster.’ Sam sighed through the phone.

‘Okay, I’ll tell Gabe. We’ll be there soon.’

 

17)      Promise

Telling Sam that Cas was his fiancé made Dean feel prideful, but at the same time, it hurt. It hurt how he wanted it so badly. He wanted to be a romantic sap, to have the complete chick-flick moment that he claimed to hate. He wanted to tell Cas every single little thing he liked about him, every tiny thing that made him care so deeply, every minute detail that made Dean’s heart swell. Dean wanted to promise him that those things wouldn’t stop being true until the end of forever. Thinking about it gave him a small satisfaction – he’d never been able to commit to anything but his job before, but here he was, thinking he could love someone until infinity ended. But it hurt too, because now he’d ruined it and couldn’t take it back. And denying to Sam, too, how deeply he felt, hurt as well, like he was denying Cas. And he didn’t want to do that, even if they said Cas might not make it. Because in the end, Cas was Cas, period, and he meant more than the world to Dean. Engraved silver bands were just a quiet show of that to everyone else.

 

18)      Dream

Before Sam arrived, nearing eight, Dean had fallen asleep. His face was in the crook of his left arm at Cas’ side, Cas’ right hand in his. He’d only left Cas’ bedside once, and that had been to get food from the take-out place down the road.

Dean dreamed of places he’d travelled through, areas he’d seen through the windscreen of the Impala. None of them were particularly grand, all were rather boring. Only when a low voice from beside him asked how long until he thought they’d be there did it occur to Dean that he might not be alone in the car. His eyes flicked to the mirror, and he saw that Cas had been there the whole time, that it was just them in his baby. He wore his signature rumpled suit and trench coat, turned away from Dean. He looked pensively out the passenger window at the scenery as they rolled past. Dean’s view flicked back to the road. Until there, the road had been straight, through fields and fields of crops. Now it was different, and they were driving up along a winding road into the mountains. The view was incredible, so Dean pulled over when they came to a rest stop. The mountains stretched out around them, rising far above the car, for miles, trees dotted irregularly on them. At the foot of them, below the road, was a river, the road bending with it. He climbed out of the Impala and stretched out on the hood, looking out at the scenery. Cas was beside him, like he’d blipped out of existence and then back into it again at Dean’s side. This wasn’t something Dean would ever do – stop to look at the view. He had no idea where he was driving to, but the chances were that he’d driven through these mountains before, at some point. But even these mountains, ancient and defined, looming over them were no rival to the beauty in Cas’ even more ancient face right beside him. Cas leaned into him and lay his head on Dean’s shoulder, and Dean wrapped an arm around him, dropping a kiss to his lips.

Abruptly, the touch of Castiel’s lips vanished, and Dean jerked awake with a start when someone shook his shoulder. Dean, trained from years on the road, was alert almost instantaneously. Sam stood beside him, Gabriel just behind Sam. Gabriel held three containers of Italian, in packaging Dean recognised as from the place near his and Cas’ apartment.

 

19)      Candle

Dean and Cas didn’t go to the Italian place very often – only on special occasions. Italian had been their first date, though that had been accidental (so they thought), and they’d sort of denied it for a while. They had been on a job somewhere, and Sam was whining that they should get food. There’d been an Italian place around the block, according to the pamphlets in their shitty motel room, so at Sam’s insistence, they’d gone there. Dean would have been fine with the burger place, which was closer, as would have Cas, whose ability to pack away cheeseburgers and make porn-star noises while doing so was impressive to Dean. So the three of them had gone there, and almost as soon as they sat down, Sam’s phone had rung. Dean would have been suspicious, if there hadn’t been food on offer that smelled delicious. Sam had taken the call, and made some lame excuse before leaving. Dean didn’t remember what crap he’d made up, but he certainly remembered the wink directed at him when Cas wasn’t looking. Instead, Cas had been looking at the candle on the table. When he’d picked it up to study it further, Dean noticed it was scented and had rolled his eyes. Fancy-ass places and their need for unnecessary fancy-ass decorations.

It hadn’t been until the waiter came back with their food and asked ‘How are you enjoying your date, sirs?’ that Dean had realized what Sam’s wink had been, and began silently planning the most effective form of revenge. Sensing Dean wasn’t going to reply, Castiel had answered for them, with a simple ‘Well, thank you.’

Sam had teased them about “having fun on their date” afterward, but before Dean could snip back at him that it wasn’t a date, Cas had replied with a dictionary definition that their social engagement had been just fine. Dean had felt so awkward, yet relieved at the same time; Cas hadn’t seemed to know what Sam and the waiter had obviously implied. It meant that Dean’s whatever-it-was for Cas was still a secret - and Cas was the only one not in on the secret. Sam’s face dropped a little, in a way that Dean only noticed because he’d been around his brother for so long, and Dean smirked back at him. The incident wasn’t mentioned again until a couple of years later, when Dean and Cas were actually properly dating. Thinking about it now, the memory made Dean nostalgic, but it also hurt; everything reminded Dean of Cas, of DeanAndCas, and now he might never get a chance to recreate it.

 

20)      Talent

The three of them, Sam, Dean, and Gabriel, ate in silence. Dean sat in the same chair he’d been in since he’d been allowed into the room, with Sam and Gabriel on the other side of the bed. Gabriel had had to drag in an extra chair from out in the hallway. Dean’s body was hungry, but he didn’t want to eat. He made himself, though, to avoid his brother’s and Gabe’s pestering. The food was just as good as he remembered, but the company surrounding him wasn’t. Last time he’d eaten Italian, Castiel had been with them. With them properly. He couldn’t remember what they were celebrating. They’d probably made a breakthrough with a case or something, because he remembered there being piles of old books around, one open next to Sammy’s plate. That was one of Sammy’s talents. It was what he was good at, and enjoyed. Dean liked action, but Sammy liked planning and words. Dean had given up on researching, so it’d been he and Cas who’d gone to get the food. Gabriel hadn’t been there when they left, but he had been when they’d come back. Dean didn’t ask, and Sam didn’t tell. Dean still didn’t like Gabriel, still thought he was an annoying dick, but he tolerated him. Sammy liked him, and that was enough for Dean. That was another of Sammy’s talents - seeing the best in people. Dean wasn’t so good at that either.

 

21)      Silence

When Gabriel asked what exactly had happened to his brother, he was met with mostly silence. Dean knew that the hospital staff had told Gabe the obvious already, so Dean didn’t feel the need to tell him himself. Gabe had prompted Dean again and again, until Sam shushed him and told him to let Dean tell them in his own time. And Dean had. Eventually. Two weeks later. He tried leaving parts out, like why Cas was going to the library by himself at that hour of the night, but Gabriel had been pushy about it. Dean had forgotten that Gabe could easily tell when people were lying - Cas had been able to as well. So he told them. That Cas had left. That he was here, now, because some drunk sped through a red light in a hit-and-run. That it was Dean’s fault, because they’d fought. He turned away from them then, but not without seeing Sam and Gabriel share a glance.

‘Dean,’ Sam started, gently, ‘don’t blame yourself. You aren’t responsible.’

‘I am,’ Dean mumbled. ‘I yelled at him, I couldn’t stop. I turned into Dad - he never listened to us, never accepted what he didn’t want. Sam, Cas isn’t gay.’

Neither Sam nor Gabriel said anything to him, but Sam did talk. To Gabe. Told him to go and get their laptop out of the car. It didn’t escape Dean that Sam had said ‘our’ like it was shared – even when it had been DeanAndSam, Brother Duo, that laptop had always been “Sam’s”.

 

22)      Journey

Gabriel left the room, and Sam watched him for just a beat too long, sighing. Dean fidgeted with Castiel’s hand.

Sam began, ‘There isn’t just black and white, y’know. There’s grey, too. Lots of different shades of grey, lots in between. And there are some that aren’t in between’. Dean didn’t look up or reply, so Sam continued. ‘Did you ever actually ask him if he’s gay? Or bi, like you are?’ Again, Dean didn’t look up, but from knowing his brother for so long, he knew Sam had his “you’re-really-stupid-y’know” bitch-face on. Dean shook his head in reply. ‘Do you know _anything_ about sexuality?’ Sam’s tone sounded belittling, insensitive, and Dean just glared at his brother. Sam quickly realized his mistake, and asked for the exact words Castiel had said. Dean explained that Cas had said he wasn’t interested, that he didn’t want to be with Dean _like that_. He told Sam that Cas doesn’t love him. Cas had been in the relationship with him and had pretended to return his feelings the whole time so that Dean wouldn’t feel bad. Cas was only staying out of pity. Dean hated being pitied.

Soon, Gabriel came back with Sam’s laptop. Sam opened it, typed in password, opened an internet browser, typed something more, and stuck it in front of Dean.

 _“asexuality_ ”, the search bar read. Sam whispered something to Gabriel, and together they left the room. Dean’s suspicions of them rose again.

The first hit was Wikipedia. Dean clicked on it. “ _This article is about humans who lack sexual attraction or interest in sexual activity. For other uses, see Asexual_.”Dean was confused, and a bit sceptical, not understanding how that was possible. But it sounded about right, and Sam knew a ton of things from God knows where. So he kept reading. This other thing, abbreviated “AVEN” was mentioned twice, so Dean made a mental note to look that up. The bullet points at the bottom of the _Identity and relationships_ section drew his eye, but he told himself to keep reading, that he was doing this for Cas and had to read all of it. As he read on, he began to feel like Cas’ reaction made more sense. Maybe he’d been avoiding telling Dean because he knew Dean would have the reaction he did. The links to bisexual and pansexual were purple - Dean made another mental note to ask about that later. One of the bullet points read _biromantic; as opposed to bisexual_ and another read _homoromantic; as opposed to homosexual_ , and now that he’d read the article, he roughly understood. It was a lot to take in, and his mind was racing. If this was Cas, maybe Cas did love Dean after all, just not in a sexual way. Relief flooded through his veins, and, for the first time since Cas had said anything about it, Dean felt like his heart was soaring. He felt wetness on his cheeks, wiping at it without realizing he was doing so.

Dean went back to the search results after that. Scrolling down the result page, he found an article titled _How to Understand Asexual People: 8 Steps (with Pictures)_. Dean clicked on it next. He read it, finding this one much easier to understand. “ _Communication is vital for you and your partner, to know what your partner is and is not comfortable with.”_ Dean felt guilty; communication had been something he was pretty good at with Castiel, but apparently, not enough so. And now he’s sitting here, at Cas’ bedside in a hospital, learning things about Cas from the internet instead of from Cas himself. He never even told Sam that Cas broke up with him.

 

23)      Fire

After reading a little more, Dean decided he was done with it for then. He called Sam again, telling his brother that he and his boy toy could come back. After protesting about Gabriel being his “boy toy”, Sam told Dean they’d be back in the morning, since visiting hours were now over. Sam added, as an afterthought, that he and Gabe had been staying at Dean and Cas’ apartment. He told Dean to go to sleep, and to take a shower, because he stunk. Dean didn’t shower, but he did sleep, eventually, slumped over Cas’ bed. It was more a nap than anything, but he didn’t want to leave Cas, not while there was no one else he trusted here with Cas.

The next day, it was just Sam who joined Dean at Cas’ bedside. Dean decided to take the moment to ask Sam about what he had discovered yesterday.

‘How did you even know all of that?’ Dean asked.

So for the next hour, Sam told Dean about part of his college years – the part that Dean had never known about before. Sammy had never mentioned much more than his studies, Dean hadn’t wanted to push him on it. And he had never mentioned much of Jess. Now, though, he talked about the dorm rooms and the guy who’d hit on him until Sam had moved out. Brady had told him that Sam was gay too, Sam just had to discover it within himself. Sam’s face had been sour as he’d talked.  

Brady had introduced Sam to Jess. Sam talked of how Jess was insistent that he stop studying for a while and join a club or something, and had dragged him to the school’s Queer Straight Alliance. Sam knew a lot about sexualities because of that, but Brady had still been wrong.

‘You’re bi? Pansexual?’ Dean guessed, and Sam’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

‘Demi-pan, actually. How do _you_ know that?’ Dean told him the links had been purple on the Wikipedia page.

While both of them remembered Jess, Sam far more than Dean, neither of them mentioned which memory exactly that it was the remembered. Jess had been the only person Sam had had ever had a proper, lasting relationship with. Sam had loved her so much, and had wanted it to stay that way until the end of time. But the world never works the way one wants it to – Sam had learnt that at a young age – and it was gone too soon. Up in flames, too late to save it, too late to save her. Both brothers blamed themselves in a way – Sam thought he should have been there, and Dean thought he shouldn’t have. Women didn’t stay long in their lives without tragedy – neither did lovers.

 

24)      Strength

‘How did you do this with me, Sammy?’ Dean asked. ‘How did you get through after Jess?’ He sighed. He was tired, but he couldn’t sleep, not without Cas snuggling into his side. Dean needed food, but couldn’t eat, not without Cas there, stealing food off his plate. He’d never gotten fully comfortable with something in his life before, because with his dad and their life, he knew it wouldn’t last. This time he’d thought it would, because Cas was part of this life with him. He hadn’t realized how comfortable he’d been until Cas was no longer there in the ways that he should’ve been. Dean’s head was heavy, a dull, pulsing throb behind his eyes, and he hadn’t cried - couldn’t cry.

‘I focused on Dad when I didn’t want to think about you, and I focused on you when I didn’t want to think about him. Prioritizing, Dean. But Jess? What does Jess have to do with it?’ Sam replied.  It was then that Dean knew he would have to tell Sam.

Dean covered his face with both hands. ‘I was gonna propose, Sammy.’ Dean heard Sam’s sharp intake of breath, but continued. ‘I was gonna ask him for forever.’

 

25)      Mask

After telling his brother the secret he’d been sitting on for months and months, Dean’s resolve broke, and he was sobbing. He buried his face into his arm the way he’d fitfully slept that first night after Cas was admitted, gasps and cries wracking his body. The position was probably killing his back, but he couldn’t leave. He needed to be there, since it was fault. He just wanted Cas back with him. Happy, like they were before. If only he’d known and kept his mouth shut. Sam put his hand on Dean’s arm, trying to comfort his older brother.

‘Dean…’ Sam sighed. ‘You need to sleep. When Gabe gets here, eat and then go back to the apartment or get a motel or _something_. Stay there until you’ve had six hours - or it’s afternoon at least.’

He did, once he’d eaten, on the promise that they call him the moment anything happened. Dean wasn’t aware of just how exhausted he was, taking in the smell of Castiel’s fruity shampoo on the pillow on his side of the bed for just a few minutes before he was out like a light. He slept, he dreamed, he was flying high. Maybe it was only seconds in reality, but in his dreams it was much, much longer. Castiel was with him, huge, dark, blue-black wings adorning his back. Dean hugged him tight, feeling like if he let go, that would be the end - and then they were miles above the earth, closer to the stars. Looking down on oceans, looking down on deserts, looking down on forests. They landed somewhere, which transformed around them to be home. Cas sat down at the table, not taking his trench coat off before he did so, and looked up at Dean. Dean beamed down at him, announcing he’d cook. Dean enjoyed cooking for Cas, seeing the way his face lit up as he bit into different things, and the moans if something was extra good. Cas didn’t feel the need to censor himself around Dean.  Dean blinked, and there was food already prepared on the table before him. He sat across from Cas. They ate, and when they were finished, Cas looked up at Dean and announced there was something he wanted to say. Dean did as well. He stood and pulled the box from his back pocket, just like he’d never had the chance to in reality.

He opened it, grinning, and said ‘Cas, marry me?’

Castiel looked up at him, lips parted, blue eyes wide.

 

26)      Ice

Dean is jolted awake, a classic rock guitar solo blasting from his phone on the bedside table. He drags his hand down his face, and sits up drowsily. He reaches over to grab the phone, flipping it open and answering. Sam on the other end. Something’s happening. Dean’s brain is startling awake, quickly plunging into overdrive, and he hastily dresses, snatching up his phone and car keys and hurrying out of the apartment. He drives as quickly as he can, cautious of the wet roads – more snow had fallen the day before – and of other people. Cas was there now because of someone’s reckless driving. Dean isn’t going to be a repeat. He doesn’t want anyone else to have to lose their Cas, and be the cause of that loss.

In a haste to get across the parking lot, Dean slips on ice and falls heavy on the concrete. He stands up and brushes off his knees, hands trembling with cold, gritting his teeth and sucking in a breath against the pain. He continues towards the hospital building. Dean isn’t going to lose Cas forever, not now. He can’t. He can’t.

 

27)      Fall

When Dean shuffles through the hallways towards Cas’ room, he’s expecting the worst. Sam and Gabriel aren’t waiting outside like he’d expected they would be. He feels slight relief at this. But stumbling into the room, the first thing Dean hears is the monitor. Until now, it’s been constant. Now it’s high pitched, the beeping irregular. The second thing he notices is the pale blue scrubs. Nurses surround the bed. Past them, Dean sees Sam and Gabe. They're leaning against each other on the couch under the window. Sam fidgets, Gabe rubbing his back comfortingly. Dean sits on Sam's left, unsure of what to do with himself. This wasn't supposed to happen. He looks up again, his eye catching on the monitor where Cas' heartbeat spikes. Up and down. Up and down. More sharply, up and down. Then the ups aren't up enough, the downs aren't down enough. It's falling. Falling, falling, almost flatlining.

 

28)      Forgotten

The next moment, there are even more people all around him. They’re moving quickly and frantically, hauling in equipment and oxygen masks and all manner of other things Dean couldn’t name, even if he’d been paying attention to them. Dean’s mind goes from panicked to numb. They give him just seconds to say what he needs to, and then, in a daze, he’s shoved from the room. Sam and Gabe must pull him out of the hallway and back to the waiting room, but Dean has no recollection of it happening. The beeping is replaced by one long beep behind them. That’s all Dean can focus on.

Failure is something of a constant in his life, a barrage of other emotions with it. They have the familiarity of an old friend, and Dean hates them. He hates the way his father’s voice echoes in his head with them, screams left over from something Dean can’t even remember - only that it had been the wrong choice. Dean has long forgotten how it felt to be without that tight bundle festering inside him, has long forgotten what having only mundane, normal people’s failures to fear felt like - and even then it was different, back then he’d been a kid, back then none of that had mattered. Now, it matters more than he can comprehend. He failed himself. He failed Sam and Gabe. He failed Cas.

 

29)      Dance

The way the people move around here is fascinating, a clumsy sort of graceful where nobody ever collides, all blue scrubs and matching blue caps and stethoscopes and sterile gracefulness. It makes Dean think of the one time he and Cas had had the normal person’s worry of being bad dancers. He can’t even remember what exactly they were doing - some fancy thing they’d had to be in suits for that involved dancing. They’d faked their way in, of course, and they’d been bad at dancing, of course, but he’d found he’d really enjoyed it. They had swayed together, soon finding rhythm on the floor. They’d stepped together, one occasionally freezing in pain as the other stepped on his foot. And then they’d left together, falling asleep on a couch in a crappy motel room, wrapped in each other’s limbs. Sam had had to wake them later, when he came back.

 

30)      Body

Dean steps alone, now. He’s pacing, and there’s nothing Sam can do to try and calm him. Castiel will not be leaving with him today, and Dean has frantically convinced himself that the next time he’s allowed in that room it will be just Cas’ body left. He doesn’t want to think about that, but it’s the only thing his mind will focus on. He pictures Cas’ hands, made that of a warrior’s, yet so gentle, so fiercely protective, stiffening. His eyes, his lips, never again to meet Dean’s own, passion never again to be expressed and shared between them. Dean knows he’ll leave alone.

 

31)      Sacred

Castiel is sacred, and always had been. He is love and loyalty, someone who doesn’t just give up. And when he’d rebelled for Dean, fallen, he’d become so much more. Dean didn’t worship anything – his father had been a drill sergeant rather than a proper father, and taught Dean not to believe in any deities, certainly not the Christian God. How many times had Dean needed something, for himself, or, more likely, for Sammy, only to get nothing in return? In the life he led, there was no possibility to him of a God existing at all. And then he’d met Cas.

 

32)      Farewells

They let him say farewell, and then they’re separated. Much like Castiel’s departure had been, Dean’s farewell is both expected and sudden. Cas had told him he didn’t want sex like Dean did, and Dean had yelled. Back when John Winchester used to yell at Dean, Dean would simply stand through it, stoic and passive. Cas did as well, in response to Dean’s own outburst - he was hurt by it, but quickly put up a mask like he hadn’t been. And when Dean had stopped yelling, Cas had pulled his trench coat from the back of a wooden dining chair and turned to him.

He spoke softly, with a kindness Dean didn’t deserve. ‘I’ll be back later - but we’re not together until you understand and are okay with that.’

Dean had paced, still sort of angry, but most of it had bled out of him by then. Cas leaving had jolted him to a realization: he was becoming like his father. That scared him. He had admired some of his father’s qualities, but had hated the rest. He hated how they affected him even now, years later. And then the call had come.

Dean’s own last words to Cas, as the doctors had rushed him away, had been a mere whispered plea. ‘I’m sorry, Cas, I love you. Come back, come back to me.’ Again, he paces, every emotion replaced by fear.

 

33)      World

When Gabriel had gotten annoyed with Dean walking back and forth, side to side in front of them, he’d taken charge of the situation. He’d announced that visiting hours would be over soon, that they wouldn’t be allowed to stay any longer, and he’d shepherded the brothers back to Dean’s apartment and told Dean to sleep.  Dean had argued, feeling upset and jittery. Gabriel had reasoned that there wasn’t anything they could do, and eventually, Dean had resigned to that. It took a long time before he fell into fitful sleep, tossing and turning, anxious thoughts crowding his mind.

 

When Dean woke the next morning, it was early enough that the sun was only just spreading light across the city. He pulled on his clothes mechanically, wiping sleep from his eyes. It wasn’t until he saw Sam lying on the couch that it caught up with him. Cas.

Yesterday might’ve been it. His stomach rumbles, but there’s no way he’s forcing food into it. He can’t.  Yesterday it felt like there was a small animal crawling around in his gut.  Today, there’s only numb.  Dean sinks into an armchair, elbows on his knees, face in his palms. He can feel tears welling up. He takes a deep breath. Settling back into the chair properly, he takes his phone from his pocket. He’s intending to just fiddle with it, just to give himself something to do, but instead goes into his photos. There aren’t a great deal, but he remembers the events surrounding all of them. He flicks through them, one at a time, barely pausing on the ones without Cas. He focuses on how Cas had looked, neglecting to wipe away the wetness now on his cheeks.

He isn’t expecting it when the phone rings in his hand, loudly and abruptly.

There’s a thump across the room. ‘Ow,’ Sam’s voice mumbles from the floor, still sleep-ridden. ‘Whaa?’ he asks, confused, then realizes it’s Dean’s phone that woke him and commands, ‘Answer it!’

Dean knows why he’s hesitating. It’s the hospital. It has to be. Who else would it be? He answers. It’s a woman’s voice.

‘Hello, is this Dean Winchester, partner of Castiel Novak?’

‘Yeah. Is he, is...’ Dean can’t finish, a lump forming in his throat. Instead he hands the phone to Sam. It’s only now that it really hits him. Until now, he’s held this meagre hope somewhere that it isn’t real, that there’s a mistake or a hoax or _something_ that means Cas gets to come back to him. But Dean knows - they’re calling to say Cas is gone.

On speaker, the woman’s voice answers, ‘This is St. Mary’s hospital, Castiel has been stabilized and will be allowed visitors later in the day.’

And then Dean’s sobbing. His shoulders heave, breath shaky. Relief floods through him, replacing the tension. Cas is alive.

 

That had been two weeks ago, and Dean hasn’t left Cas’ side since. He doesn’t know exactly what had happened, doesn’t want to, but the doctors and the rest of the staff said Cas is stable again, and it’s likely he’ll stay that way until he wakes.

In the meantime, Dean sits in his usual chair by Cas’ bedside, and simply talks to him. As he does so, Dean finds interesting things he didn’t know about before, like the rest of the asexuality articles, which he reads aloud. There are pan and bi and demisexuality articles too, which he doesn’t read aloud. Then there are the current events, many of which were bad news, and Dean is shocked by them. He never kept up with the world events as a kid, and his adult life was focused on protecting the world from things no one else knew about. His life had all the bad news, so he kept the TV channels solely turned to fiction or animals as much as he could.

 

34)      Formal

In these two weeks, Dean decides that like his dream, he’ll be formal about asking Cas to marry him. He’ll do it soon after Cas wakes, and this time, he’ll hear Cas’ reply. Maybe he’ll take his boyfriend (they’re exs now, technically, but Dean doesn’t want to think about that) out to a really fancy Italian place - not like the take out down the road, more like where their first date had been. Maybe he’ll cook himself, like in his dream. Maybe he’ll do it properly but randomly somewhere, when he can’t wait any longer. He’ll do the whole deal, dropping to one knee and opening the small black velvet box, romantic speech and all.

He only hopes Cas will say yes.

 

35)      Fever

The first person who sees the box that has been living in Dean’s drawer for months is Gabriel. Most nights, Dean goes home to sleep. He’s alone when he drifts into unconsciousness, and he’s alone when he wakes. One morning, as he gets his clothes to dress, his fingers brush across the outside of the box. It’s been a while since he’s done laundry. He wonders briefly if he can talk Sam into doing it for him, but the thought is forgotten as he fiddles with the box. Upon leaving the room, he tucks it into his pocket. When he wanders through the too-bright hospital halls with their awful navy-blue and white pattern, Gabriel is the first person he meets.  They’ve been issued masks, since some other patient somewhere in the hospital has some nasty, contagious fever. Gabriel is looking down at the floor as he heads towards the exit, but his eyes unabashedly roam up Dean’s body to catch his eyes.

Gabriel’s voice sounds funny through the mask, but also tired and worn when he speaks, noticing the bulge in Dean’s trousers. ‘Is that a banana in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?’

Dean glares at Gabe, finding his weak attempt at humour inappropriate. All the same, he presses a finger to his lips in the “shut up” motion and pulls the box from his pocket. Gabriel frowns at it for a moment, but looks up at Dean, wide-eyed, when he realizes what it is he’s looking at. Dean doesn’t usually second guess himself, but suddenly he wonders if he should have spoken to Gabriel first. After all, Gabe is the only actually related family member Cas has left who doesn’t hate him - meaning that he and Dean would become brothers-in-law. Dean’s surprisingly okay with that, since Gabe’s pretty much family already. After a moment, Gabriel winks at Dean, smirking slightly. Relieved, Dean decides he’s not gonna get an interrogation and slips the box back in his pocket, continuing down the hallway.

 

36)      Laugh

When Dean reaches the doorway, he quietly pushes it open just as he always does. He steps through, but pauses when he hears Sam talking.

‘Sam?’ he asks softly, unsure whether or not he’s intruding. From the corner of his eye, not far enough into the room to actually see, there’s a sharp movement. Getting up and coming closer, Sam turns to face him.

‘Dean. Did you run into Gabe in the hall?’

‘Yeah,’ Dean says. ‘We didn’t talk though.’ Sam rolls his eyes at that, in a manner they’ve both come to read “typical Gabriel”.

Dean shuffles over to his seat, extracting his phone from his pocket as he does so. He collapses in his chair and types out a text to Gabriel, saying simply ‘ _were u supposed 2 tell me something?_ ’ He doesn’t get a response, so he tucks the phone back into his jeans before slipping his hand into Castiel’s. It’s his usual habit by now, and he’s used to Cas’ hand being stiff beneath his. But he’s not prepared from Cas’ hand to tense. He’s not prepared for it to tighten around his. He freezes in shock.

He doesn’t register Sam’s cell phone making noise until Sam stands, thrusting his phone into Dean’s face with a message lit up on the screen. It reads, ‘ _deans about to propose, cmere sasquatch._ ’ Dean looks up into his brother’s face, his eyes wide and childlike, and there’s a vulnerability there that Dean’s never felt before. Sam’s mouth is pressed into a thin line and raised at one side, and one of his eyebrows raised. Dean takes it to mean, “I’m so done, you didn’t even tell me?!” before Sam leaves the room, huffing a sigh. Dean knows he isn’t really annoyed, and grins at him. This exchange takes less than a minute, then Dean turns back to Cas.

‘Cas?’ he asks cautiously. There’s a sound from Cas’ throat, another slight squeeze of his hand, and Dean’s first reaction is to laugh. He doesn’t know how to handle it, so he laughs.  He’s so exhausted, so relieved, in such disbelief that he laughs.

 

37)      Lies

Colour and warmth have returned to Castiel’s skin, no longer the pale and cold it had been. Dean assumes Cas has been awake for a while, but not coherent, from the way Sam was talking and Gabe had winked at him. Bringing the ring had been impulse rather than intention, because it provided him small comfort. He feels a surge of anger that Sam and Gabe hadn’t even thought to call him, but it wears away quickly. He’s simply thankful, relieved that Cas is back here with him - even if it’s not like before. Using the controller on the side of the hospital bed, he raises the head so that Cas is sitting up. Dean is struck by how human Cas looks in this moment. Vulnerable and innocent, with beauty that could fit right in with the most stunning places on Earth - but Dean knows that Cas could look all of those things and be exactly none of them. Cas’ entire existence is a lie sometimes, but other times, to Dean, it is the purest truth that there could ever be.

Dean takes Cas’ right hand in his own, as he usually does. Feeling his touch, Cas’ eyes blink open slowly. He stares at Dean for a moment, then the first words Cas says to Dean, are ‘I told you no lies.’ And Dean knows he hasn’t.

 

38)      Forever

Despite his certainty of his decision to be formal and do it properly, Dean listens to Gabriel. He knows Gabe hadn’t been completely serious. But now, Cas is awake. Cas is with him. Cas is okay.

‘I don’t want to wait any longer,’ Dean tells Cas. Cas just furrows his eyebrows, looking at Dean in confusion.

So Dean starts talking, somewhat flustered. He talks about his father, and how he’s afraid of becoming him. He talks about the first time he saw Cas, he talks about the graffiti wings. He talks about how angry he had been when Cas had walked out. Most importantly, he talks about what he read online, about asexuality, about the discoveries he’s made, the new understanding he has. He tells Cas of his favourite memories, some of the ones that have crossed his mind while he’s been here. Some he doesn’t even remember properly, except that Cas had been there and they’d felt like the best day of his life. He tells Cas that every day with him has felt like the best day of his life, even if the day itself was painful and gruesome. He tells Cas that he wants every day for the rest of forever to be the best day of his life. When he finally confesses the dream he had, Cas’ confusion fades to curiosity.

And then, ‘Cas, marry me.’

 

39)      Overwhelmed

Cas doesn’t answer for a while. He turns away from Dean and stares idly at a print on the opposite wall to his bed. Dean can tell he’s thinking, and starts to panic, wondering if he’s jumped this on Cas too soon. Should he have thought about it longer? Left it to a better time?  But Dean doesn’t leave. Instead, he sits patiently, waiting for the man he loves to reply. His heart jumps in his chest, unable to settle. He tries and fails to force himself to be calm. Cas will answer when he sees fit, Dean tells himself. That’s always been Cas’ way.

 

40)      Whisper

When Cas does reply, it’s a whisper that Dean almost misses.

‘I heard you talking when I was asleep,’ he says, low and quiet. ‘You barely left, except when Sam or Gabriel were here with me. I wanted to tell them to leave sometimes, you know, just so that you would continue talking,’ he pauses. Dean knows that Cas is gathering words, proper structure to what he wants to say – complete opposite to Dean’s own habits of being brash and loud and uncaring so long as the words are there. ‘I have seen the world go about its duties and disasters for much longer than I would like, but I had never found anyone who made eternity seem like it could be worthwhile until we met in hell. So yes, Dean, I will marry you.’

 

41)      Wait

They wait before anything further happens. Neither Dean nor Cas mind; there’s no great rush. Cas is soon released from the hospital, and they begin to resume their lives. It’d been a miracle his injuries hadn’t been worse, the nurses said. Dean agreed with them, but wondered if it really had been; Cas has a way of defying how things are supposed to be. Cases are cases, but neither Dean nor Cas are as reckless; they watch each other’s backs like Dean and Sam did when they were younger, perpetually worried for each other’s safety. They’re more aware that Cas is no longer indestructible, and that Dean never was. And Cas lets himself completely relax now, the guards that he used to hold so firmly now loosened.

 

42)      Talk

They talk, like they should’ve done from the start. Dean realizes now that Cas had been afraid, Dean hadn’t known any different, and neither knew the proper words. Cas isn’t afraid anymore, Dean _knows_ , and they have the words. They have so many words, more words than Cas thought possible when he worked out his orientation by himself.

They talk, set proper boundaries – what’s okay and what isn’t. Dean doesn’t want to do anything Cas isn’t comfortable with – because this isn’t just about Dean, it never is. Cas isn’t okay with anything below the waist. He explains to Dean that his nudity isn’t sexual but self-freedom, ownership of himself. He’s nervous though, because intimacy like this, with Dean, isn’t something he’s ever been in a position to experience before. They do other things instead, things that cater to Dean’s sensual wants and both of their emotional needs.

They talk, about weddings and ceremonies and civil unions – Dean doesn’t care for the fancy crap, and they don’t have many people to invite anyway. Cas doesn’t really care either, because a huge party isn’t going to make a difference in whether he loves Dean or not. It’s just an event of show, one that is unnecessary for them. They already know what they mean to each other.

 

43)      Search

Dean has come to realize that that thing within himself that he’s been searching for his whole life has finally slipped into place. Before, it had been like some sort of hole, a vacuum or a void, something that felt so very _vast_ , deep inside his chest. He’s been chasing it for years, latching on to anything to close it, even just for a while. He supposes it’s some sort of lingering effect from not having proper parent figures or a solid home, from being dragged around the country by his father, who insisted on being called “Sir”. Now though, it feels like something has stoppered it, in a more permanent way than anything he’s tried before has. Instead of being the gaping edge of a cliff that he might fall head first into, gaining and losing barriers, it’s now more like an image on a screen - distant, unnecessary worry.

 

44)      Hope

He hopes it’ll stay like that. A much bigger part of him is convinced it won’t, but there is some tiny part of his heart that still hopes, still whispers to him that he’s wrong, that everything will turn out okay. The first two weeks of Castiel’s hospital stay had been like that, and even more so after that, until he was released. There hadn’t been much he could do, and he’d felt so useless - “just being there” had never constituted to being very useful in his father’s eyes. To his father, it was action that had mattered. Finishing one thing and moving onto the next. Dean’s whole life still revolves around his father’s teachings, but it’s the smaller things like that that Dean notices the most. He hates them. And he had hated the stagnancy of not doing anything, but he couldn’t not be there at the hospital. While he had almost complete belief that Cas would not make it, that small part of him did believe - and what if Cas had woken up and he _wasn’t_ there? So he had stayed. He had waited. And he had hoped like anything, even if he told himself not to.

 

45)      Eclipse

Dean has found over the years that he’s pretty good at convincing himself of things - particularly, negative things, things he knew wouldn’t happen. Things like his father actually coming back to them when he said he would, or saying that they’d find somewhere and stay there for once. Dean knew it wouldn’t happen. And now that Cas had opened up about his asexuality and told Dean more than Wikipedia articles and dictionary definitions, Dean found that the new knowledge eclipsed how well he knew himself, right back to elementary school. Other than one girl whose name he can’t remember from an elementary school in Nowheresville, Ohio that he’d been at for two weeks, Cassie, and now Cas, Dean just doesn’t feel romantic attraction. He had no one in his life to tell him that this isn’t how it is for most people, and because he never stayed anywhere for long, he just assumed that everyone was like that. The sex was easy though, and it gave physical closeness at least. Learning about Cas’ asexuality, though, from Cas and the internet, opened up the possibility of there being a reason why he longed so much for the physical closeness. Romantic attraction, which is the furthest extent of what Cas feels, Dean often didn’t feel. While browsing internet articles and AVEN wikis, Dean and Cas found a name for this too: grey-romanticism. In finding this knowledge, and this extra label for himself, Dean was even more sure that Cas was the only one he wanted to be with ever again. And now that they knew each other’s boundaries, Cas was okay with that too.

 

46)      Gravity

With the minister to one side of them, hands held between them, and Sam, Gabe and a few other people they’d met along the way who were still with them standing on the other side, they say the words:  “I take you as my husband”, “‘til death do us part” (and beyond, far beyond), “I will”. They exchange rings, still made of silver, just as the one Dean had given to Cas was - only this time slightly fancier, engraved. In Latin, of course, because when did they ever deal with anything else? They were protective sigils that Cas had decided on. The sigils carried promises of commitment and protection. With their lips pressing together as the minister announces them husbands, Dean feels the ground beneath his fancy-ass shoes, gravity holding him still to the earth. He doesn’t need to be anywhere else. Right here he is content – and until the end of their time, he could be content anywhere as long as Cas is right there with him.

 

47)      Highway

They don’t do anything particularly different for a honeymoon, but when they’re driving through the Rockies on a case after the wedding, Dean pulls over. The mountains are different, of course - it’s a different time of year, and he’s never actually paid much attention when he’s driven through here before. Usually, his mind is on the case, or the road itself. Other times, Sam or his father were driving and Dean slept. This time though, it’s only Cas. It’s Cas who has held his hand on the seat between them the whole time they’ve been on this highway, Cas who doesn’t feel the need to fill the silence with words, Cas who pulls him out of the right side of the car when they stop so he doesn’t have to let go of Dean’s hand. It’s Cas who leans against him as they sit on the hood, Cas who kisses his jaw in small affection just because he’s there.

 

48)      Unknown

Unlike when he had last been stopped on these mountains in his dream, the unknown no longer terrifies Dean. He doesn’t have to push away the threatening darkness on the edges of his subconscious, the feeling that any minute now his heart could be clenching in fear and constricting his breath along with it, because _what if?_ He’d pretended he didn’t feel it before, when Sam had been having doubts about something in the past, because that’s what big brothers were supposed to do. That’s what role models were supposed to do. And while Dean might not have thought highly of himself, he had to be the best he could be for Sam. Because that was his job. That had always been his job, right from the night his mother died: ‘ _look after Sammy_.’ Before, it had all been a pretence, pretending he didn’t fear not knowing how things would end up, that dying on the job was an option he preferred. Before, it had been an act - he hadn’t wanted to worry Sam, or later, Cas. But now, it isn’t an act. It’s truth.

 

49)      Lock

The fact resounds in Dean again, months later as he turns the key in their front door lock, that he no longer has to pretend that it’s calm inside his head. Cas is with him, of course, the ring on Dean’s left hand warmed by his own and Cas’ body heat, fingers entwined. They walk outside, footsteps quiet on the pavement, needing fresh air from being inside doing research all day. It’s winter again, weather cold enough that Cas is wrapped up in a navy-purple scarf in addition to his usual attire - but the sun is still trying to force its way through the clouds. They come to the crosswalk before an intersection with a bakery on the other side, and in unspoken agreement, they cross the road. As their feet lift over the curb and step down onto the pavement, they share a look of reassurance. Dean doesn’t mention how thankful he is that Cas is beside him, but he knows Cas can tell he’s thinking it. A squeeze of his hand, and Cas pulls him to the entrance of the park.

 

50)      Breath

They walk together along the gravel paths, a familiar route to Cas’ favourite bench on the other side of the park. It’s underneath what Cas is convinced is the biggest tree in the park. In late spring, it’s the tree that always has the most bees and squirrels and birds. Most people avoid it, according to Cas, because they prefer the quiet away from the animals, and the warmth which the tree shields the bench from in the colder months. Cas likes it because other people don’t. Dean doesn’t care either way. He prefers being alone with Cas, because it means he can kiss him with no on-lookers to disapprove.

‘I love you,’ Castiel says when they pull apart, his breath spiralling away from his mouth like ghostly fingers in the cold air.

‘I love you,’ Dean says back, tendrils of warm moisture threading through Castiel’s breath as Dean exhales too. A contented smile forms on Dean’s face.


End file.
